


This

by missmishka



Category: War Boys (2009)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmishka/pseuds/missmishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice in the future life of the War Boys, David and George, once the battlelines have been put behind them.  When you find love, keep it.  No real beginning, end or plot; just <em>this.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	This

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.

A light, tickling sensation awakens David from his afternoon nap.  He lays there for a few moments, gathering focus to his surroundings. 

He’s still sprawled on his stomach across the threadbare mattress on the double bed that he shares now with George in their crappy little apartment.  The body between his spread thighs is immediately known to him as his lover’s; as are the big hands bracketing his hips.  George isn’t kissing or fondling him as he often does; he’s just holding him and … _looking at him?_  

David has no clue as he lays there with his eyes closed and face still buried in the pillow.  All he knows is there’s a rhythmic, almost-caressing waft of breath against his bare ass and he almost laughs as he suddenly remembers that night two years ago that had set so much in motion for where they are now.

“George,” he huffs out a laugh, “I think I can feel your breath on my ass.”  George’s hands flex and his body stills against him, breath catching in his chest and the tickling sensation against David’s skin stops.  “Is that your breath on my ass?” he asks slyly as he rolls over.  “Did I fall into a cactus while I was sleeping?”

George chokes out a laugh and relaxes at the joking, tension easing at his being caught doing whatever it is that he’d been doing to or with David’s ass.  David runs a hand over his lover’s head on his way down to grip George’s shoulders to urge the man up his body.  George’s hands skim up his sides; the right one stopping as it always does to linger over the scarring from the gunshot that had nearly killed David just months before. 

His head ducks down for his lips to press against the wound; careful and reverent despite the erection that David grinds impatiently against him.   His mouth moves to nip at David’s stomach for his impatience and the bastard manages to catch skin because damned if David hasn’t gone a little soft since his injury. 

He makes another mental note to add sit-ups back to his exercise regime because the jogging and swimming aren’t keeping his core as toned as it had been.  He’s put that item on the list before only to remove it because his side still twinged from too much exertion of that kind.  He quickly shakes off thoughts of how he got the wounds because those lead to thoughts of his father and Slater Welch no longer has any place in David’s life; especially not in his bed with George. 

As if sensing the change in the direction of David’s thoughts, George moves suddenly to spread atop him and tangle his thick fingers in David’s dark hair.  He tugs to angle David’s head backward for his mouth as it swoops down for a devouring kiss that swipes everything else from David’s mind.  Their tongues twine together as naturally as breathing as George shifts to straddle him while they fall into a familiar grind to rub their cocks together. 

David wraps his arms around his lover’s waist and grabs at his ass with demanding hands.  He gropes the taut swells of flesh as he now has every right to; sliding his fingers in between to stroke until George tears his mouth away gasp for breath.  He presses his forehead to David’s shoulder and shudders as his hips hitch upward to encourage the fingers circling his asshole.  It isn’t often that George bottoms; still sometimes grappling with the realization that he likes it, but he seems rather agreeable to the touching at the moment.  David doesn’t want to do anything to change that, but they need slick and the nightstand is just a hair over arm’s length away for him to be able to get the lube without breaking away for a moment.

George takes care of that by tugging at David’s left hand and raising it to his mouth to suck on his middle and index finger; laving them with his tongue until they’re coated with saliva before he guides them back down to his ass.  David needs not urging to slide those slickened fingers along the man’s crack until they circle the tight pucker of his hole, but he still allows George to guide him with the hand around his wrist.  He moves his fingers in time with the pushing of George’s hand; gliding along the crevice until, with a wiggle and backward thrust of his hips, George encourages him to work the fingers into his body.  George’s hand falls away to grasp at the covers as he bites David’s shoulder and opens himself up for those fingers.  Saliva dries quickly and David is sucking on the fingers of his right hand to take the place of the others to stretch out the opening. 

He doesn’t know if George wants him to fuck him; doesn’t know if he wants to fuck George or if they even have time for it, but the clench of muscle around his fingers as the shameless rutting together of their bodies is one of the best damned wake-up calls that he’s had in years.  Right up there with, but by no means surpassing, their first time together when George woke him with that toy boat.  They still have that thing; it keeps managing to make it’s way into the packing boxes when they move and it currently hold court atop the single dresser they have in the bedroom. 

The question of sex becomes moot as George suddenly rears back on his heels, shoving his ass down on the three fingers that David currently has scissoring inside him.  He wraps a hand around their cocks and throws his head back on choked off shout of pleasure as he jerks them both to completion.  Some day, David is sure, they’ll look back with chagrin on these frantic coupling that lead to climax in all of five minutes, but for now they’re still young and eager enough for it to be exhilarating. 

George collapses atop him; flushed and panting with release, eyes wide and pupils blown as he just stares at David.  Those eyes flutter shut as David gently works his fingers back from the clutch of that hole.  Seeing as they both need the shower anyway, he doesn’t bother to try wiping his hands off before he runs them up George’s back despite how his lover tends to be fussy about such things even when it’s just the thought of where those fingers have been that makes the man squeamish.  David had only once tried to point out that they both enjoyed giving and receiving rimjobs and kissing with lots of tongue without running to gargle first, but they both still had their own little hang-ups so David let the touching thing be one of George’s. 

“So what brought this on?” he asks playfully, scratching at the nape of George’s neck when the man makes no protest to the touching.

“Greg called,” George sighs against his neck, some of the lethargy fading from his body.  “Marta still won’t marry him.”

David shakes his head and scoffs at that, “He’s still asking her?”

“She’s the one for him,” George pushes up to stare down at him.  “He’s loved her since he was 15.”

“Still,” David feels a bit Devil’s advocate, “she’s never exactly been too thrilled about that and after everything, I’m amazed they even still see each other.  He can do better; find someone younger…”

“God,” he pushes up and away, “you sound like your father.”

“Fuck that,” David jumps of the bed as well.  “I’m just saying-”

“Greg can find someone younger than Marta, just like you can find someone classier than me.”

This argument is so old that it takes David all of two blinks to remember the origin.

“Never,” he rounds the bed and takes a firm hold of George’s face.  “I told him and I’ve told you; I don’t want anyone else.  There _is_ no one else for me,” he gentles his hands and strokes his thumb over the his lover’s lush lower lip.  “It’s always been you, even since we were kids.  I used to have wet dreams about you in that damned Aquaman t-shirt back in tenth grade and I still can’t look at you in it without getting hard.”

“It’s like that for Greg with Marta,” George turns into his touch and kisses his palm.  “Would you have just given up and left me if I’d have kept saying no?”

“Never,” David bends to seal the promise with a kiss until he no longer knows nor cares what they had been talking about.

“It’s such a mess,” he sighs and drops his head to David’s chest as they break apart.

David agrees with that much; thinking of what they left behind in Albuquerque and all that had happened on that border. 

“We’re not a part of it anymore,” he says as he hugs his friend and lover tighter.

They’re in California now; both attending community college in Barstow.  George is working on a service degree for diesel engines to go with his passion for mechanics and David is giving serious thought to having his credits transferred to Berkeley to pursue that law degree that his father had wanted him to have.  He’d never wanted it and still doesn’t for many reasons, but he’s found a passion for and has a unique perspective on immigration law that George and Cat are both encouraging him to pursue.  He doesn’t think that anyone should suffer the death of neglect and ignorance; trapped in the back of an airless truck that they’re forced into with the promise of a better life.

“We’ll always be a part of it,” George pulls away to head for the shower.

David feels a twinge in his side and covers the scar tissue even though the pain is likely imagined given the memories stirred.  He offers no argument, though, and after a moment, he follows into the bathroom.  He has a shift at the store this evening and it’s probably getting to be time for him to get ready for work.

“They’ll work themselves out,” he offers as best he can as he slips into the shower behind George.

He presses against his lover’s shorter, harder body; curls his arms around that slim waist and cups his hands over George’s pectorals as he laps at the water now flowing down George’s spine.  He wants this topic gone and forgotten, never to cause issue with them again because it shouldn’t cause issue with them now. 

“I know,” George heaves a sigh, takes hold of one of David’s hands then turns to face him.  “Maybe I should just sic Cat on ‘em.  She did a pretty good job setting me straight.”

David ignores the obvious pun there and goes in for a kiss.  They lose themselves in the moment, mouths and bodies moving together; hands alternately spreading shampoo and bodywash to cleanse their flesh as the eventual orgasm their rutting brings does a fair job of purging their spirits of negative thoughts. 

One true love does actually exist; even in this day and age.  Finding it is hard; accepting it is even harder and keeping it is something David will spend the rest of his life working on.  If Marta is it for Greg, then he wishes his friend all the luck because everyone should have a chance at what he’s found with George.


End file.
